Traumatic Changes
by TacticianZephine
Summary: The rescue of the Kaon prisoners has resulted in the rescue of two critically wounded officers. The entire Autobot army will be changed forever by this event.
1. All Over

**Yeah, so I realized that this think was REALLY long and full of mistakes, and decided to divide it up. Whoo.**

**Same story, just divided, and yes, I cut the slash scene.**

* * *

Autobots knew that there were no surviving Decepticons in the area. No one had been fast enough to catch Starscream, Bonecrusher, and their teams, and Megatron himself hadn't been around. The sparkless frames were piled up for burial, and the captive Autobots had been removed to their base in Iacon for medical care.

Most of them, anyway.

Ironhide and nine others ventured cautiously into the evacuated underground base, where he knew that two officers were being held captive. They'd found the others easily in the main base, but these final two had been carefully hidden. He could hear their tortured cries in his mind, but he had no idea where they were. He called out to the prisoners.

"Prowl? Ember?"

A low groan of pain sounded from a cell to his left. "I... Ironhide?... Is that... you?"

"Yeah, Prowl, hang on, we'll get you outta there. Get away from the door."

There were a few nanokliks of weak shuffling before Prowl replied. "... Okay..."

Ironhide nodded to Cliffjumper and Bluestreak, who took aim at the door and fired. It took several shots to break through the steel, but once they had, the hulking weapons specialist slipped inside the now-doorless cell, and hurried to the wounded Second-In-Command's side. "How bad are you hurt?"

Prowl looked up at Ironhide. His right optic was cracked and dark, and there were several open wounds across his face, chest, and arms. His head was tilted at a very wrong angle. Further down along his body were several stab wounds and a plethera of dents and cracked plating. "Not... Not very..." His words slurred and his working optic dimmed as though he was drifting unconscious.

"Tch, not very, my aft," Ironhide muttered as he clicked open his comlink.

__

'You find them, Ironhide?'

"We got Prowl. He might have some sorta head or neck trauma, I don't think we should move him. The others and I'll keep lookin' for Em."

__

"On it, I'll be right down."

"Thanks, Ratch'." The black mech closed his comlink and turned to Prowl. "Ratchet'll be down in two cycles, we gotta keep lookin' for Ember. Okay?"

"... Okay..."

"No matter what, don't go into recharge, no matter how long Ratchet takes or how tired you feel, got it?"

"Yeah..."

"Good. Ratchet'll fix you right up, kid, don't you worry. I'll send someone in to sit with you, okay?"

"... Yeah..."

Ironhide exited the cell as Ratchet appeared at the door. "Bluestreak, stay here and help Ratchet."

"Ironhide, I think I better stay with Prowl too," Smokescreen said.

"Okay, okay. Everyone else, follow me. We've still gotta find Ember."

"Yes sir!" the rest of the team said. Bluestreak and Smokescreen ventured into Prowl's cell after Ratchet, and the others set off down the hall.

Once the retrieval team had reached another hallway that branched off the main, their captain turned to them and spoke.

"All right, we're gonna split up. Warpath, Mirage, you're with Hound, take the left. Arcee, Inferno, Cliffjumper, stay here and guard the three we left with Prowl. Mia, we're taking the main hallway."

There were several affirmative remarks, then the split was made.

Chromia looked worriedly at her mate as they headed down the hallway. "What if..."

"Don't think about that. Come on."

The pair pressed on, weapons ready in case it was a Decepticon waiting to ambush them.

"Ember?" Chromia called out tentatively as they reached a closed and locked door. Through the barred window, the blue femme could see a slight, dark shape in the back corner. "Ember, it's me, Chromia, I've got Ironhide with me. Are you all right?"

There was no answer. Chromia turned to her mate. "I can't get the door open, 'Hide. Help?"

Ironhide complied, taking aim at the door and firing. Once they had peeled back enough of the door to get through, Chromia entered the room, and ran directly to where a dark female was chained to the back wall, slipping in fluid on the ground. "Argh! Primus! 'Hide, light a flare I can't see a thing. And watch it when you get in here, there's some kind of liquid on the floor."

The blue femme knelt beside the Intelligence officer, whom she quickly realized was lying on her back. Chromia picked the locks on the shackles and let her fellow Autobot's arms slide down the wall to the floor. Ember didn't move otherwise. "Ember? Emmi, can you hear me?"

No response. Chromia scanned the dark femme, but given the lack of light, she couldn't do much aside from confirm that the femme was barely holding on. "'Hide, we need that flare."

Light flooded the room. "I was working on it," the black mech said gruffly as he approached the females. Chromia's attention returned to the Head of Intel, and she gasped in horror.

The wounds were bad, to say the least. Vocal mechanisms were exposed and broken, with dried Energon coating the mutilated pieces and the edges of the wound, and one of her headlights had been shattered. Dents and other abrasions marred her entire body. There were marks on her wrists, probably from being chained. She had dislocated her left shoulder trying to free herself. An entire panel was gone on her side, and the exposed circuitry sparked and crackled uselessly, Energon crusting the edges of this wound as well, still oozing from it onto the floor. Chromia had slipped in vital fluid. And farther down, on the pelvic plating...

A Cybertronian generally had five panels of armor making up the pelvic region, two in front, two in back, and one more panel up front that concealed their interface mechanisms. Ironhide and Chromia glanced down in horror as they took in the fact that four of Ember's pelvic panels were intact, albiet severely dented. It was the absence of the fifth, and the carnage that had been wrought upon the sensitive components hidden beneath.

Delicate interface circuitry had been damaged severely, and the panel had actually been cracked right down the center. Exposed wiring sparked pathetically and fluids leaked around the ravaged parts.

"Oh, Primus, Ember..." Chromia touched her hand to the wounded femme's shoulder, hardly able to imagine the agony the Head of Intelligence was experiencing.

Ember's optics snapped online, and what had to be a scream, like music coming from a ruined speaker, issued from her destroyed vocal mechanisms. She writhed, trying to get away from Chromia's hand. More screaming, the scratching and static getting worse and worse with every sound. Energon leaked down her throat and chest plating from her exposed vocalizer.

"Shhh, it's alright, I'm not gonna hurt you..." Chromia's hand moved to the back of Ember's head. "'Hide and Ratchet are gonna get you outta here. You're gonna be okay, Emmi. It's over now... It's all over."

The Autobot troops and officers stood anxiously with the waiting Medical team. Hoist and First Aid watched the entrance intently, First Aid standing by in vehicle mode.

First to appear were Cliffjumper, Inferno, and Arcee, who were closely followed by Bluestreak, Prowl, and Smokescreen. Smokescreen was supporting his brother, with Bluestreak standing on the other side. The assembled Autobots cheered a little at the sight of their Second-In-Command.

Hoist rushed forward to help Prowl over to First Aid.

"What was the verdict?" the medic asked Smokescreen as the latter handed the tactician off to him.

"Head/neck trauma, we think," the Special Ops. agent said. "We haven't heard from Ironhide and the others.

"Make that just Ratchet, Ironhide and Chromia," Hound said. He, Mirage, and Warpath appeared from nowhere. "I haven't heard from them."

"You have now," Ironhide called gruffly as he emerged from the destroyed base. "Ratchet and Chromia are still down there with Ember. She's alive." The Weapons' Specialist looked at Hoist. "Ratchet said to get Prowl back to Iacon."

Hoist nodded, then helped Prowl clamber into First Aid's vehicle mode. He signalled First Aid to head off when Prowl was secured.

As First Aid disappeared, Ratchet appeared with an unconscious Ember secured in his arms. Chromia followed closely, looking as though she'd been up all night with a sparkling. The Autobot troops all breathed a sigh of relief when they realized that Ember was, in fact, alive.

"Hoist..." Ratchet started.

"No." Optimus came forward and took his niece from the medic. "Ratchet, transform."

The CMO did as ordered. Optimus gingerly set the Head of Intelligence inside the medic's vehicle mode. "Go. We'll catch up."

Ratchet headed off, then Optimus and the others transformed and followed suit.

__

'You think they'll be okay?'

__

'I hope so, Cosmos,'

Optimus lamented. Cosmos worried from his place in front of Air Raid, Blades, and Powerglide. Ratchet answered.

Autobots knew that there were no surviving Decepticons in the area. No one had been fast enough to catch Starscream, Bonecrusher, and their teams, and Megatron himself hadn't been around. The sparkless frames were piled up for burial, and the captive Autobots had been removed to their base in Iacon for medical care.

Most of them, anyway.

Ironhide and nine others ventured cautiously into the evacuated underground base, where he knew that two officers were being held captive. They'd found the others easily in the main base, but these final two had been carefully hidden. He could hear their tortured cries in his mind, but he had no idea where they were. He called out to the prisoners.

"Prowl? Ember?"

A low groan of pain sounded from a cell to his left. "I... Ironhide?... Is that... you?"

"Yeah, Prowl, hang on, we'll get you outta there. Get away from the door."

There were a few nanokliks of weak shuffling before Prowl replied. "... Okay..."

Ironhide nodded to Cliffjumper and Bluestreak, who took aim at the door and fired. It took several shots to break through the steel, but once they had, the hulking weapons specialist slipped inside the now-doorless cell, and hurried to the wounded Second-In-Command's side. "How bad are you hurt?"

Prowl looked up at Ironhide. His right optic was cracked and dark, and there were several open wounds across his face, chest, and arms. His head was tilted at a very wrong angle. Further down along his body were several stab wounds and a plethera of dents and cracked plating. "Not... Not very..." His words slurred and his working optic dimmed as though he was drifting unconscious.

"Tch, not very, my aft," Ironhide muttered as he clicked open his comlink.

__

'You find them, Ironhide?'

Ratchet answered.

"We got Prowl. He might have some sorta head or neck trauma, I don't think we should move him. The others and I'll keep lookin' for Em."

__

"On it, I'll be right down."

"Thanks, Ratch'." The black mech closed his comlink and turned to Prowl. "Ratchet'll be down in two cycles, we gotta keep lookin' for Ember. Okay?"

"... Okay..."

"No matter what, don't go into recharge, no matter how long Ratchet takes or how tired you feel, got it?"

"Yeah..."

"Good. Ratchet'll fix you right up, kid, don't you worry. I'll send someone in to sit with you, okay?"

"... Yeah..."

Ironhide exited the cell as Ratchet appeared at the door. "Bluestreak, stay here and help Ratchet."

"Ironhide, I think I better stay with Prowl too," Smokescreen said.

"Okay, okay. Everyone else, follow me. We've still gotta find Ember."

"Yes sir!" the rest of the team said. Bluestreak and Smokescreen ventured into Prowl's cell after Ratchet, and the others set off down the hall.

Once the retrieval team had reached another hallway that branched off the main, their captain turned to them and spoke.

"All right, we're gonna split up. Warpath, Mirage, you're with Hound, take the left. Arcee, Inferno, Cliffjumper, stay here and guard the three we left with Prowl. Mia, we're taking the main hallway."

There were several affirmative remarks, then the split was made.

Chromia looked worriedly at her mate as they headed down the hallway. "What if..."

"Don't think about that. Come on."

The pair pressed on, weapons ready in case it was a Decepticon waiting to ambush them.

"Ember?" Chromia called out tentatively as they reached a closed and locked door. Through the barred window, the blue femme could see a slight, dark shape in the back corner. "Ember, it's me, Chromia, I've got Ironhide with me. Are you all right?"

There was no answer. Chromia turned to her mate. "I can't get the door open, 'Hide. Help?"

Ironhide complied, taking aim at the door and firing. Once they had peeled back enough of the door to get through, Chromia entered the room, and ran directly to where a dark female was chained to the back wall, slipping in fluid on the ground. "Argh! Primus! 'Hide, light a flare I can't see a thing. And watch it when you get in here, there's some kind of liquid on the floor."

The blue femme knelt beside the Intelligence officer, whom she quickly realized was lying on her back. Chromia picked the locks on the shackles and let her fellow Autobot's arms slide down the wall to the floor. Ember didn't move otherwise. "Ember? Emmi, can you hear me?"

No response. Chromia scanned the dark femme, but given the lack of light, she couldn't do much aside from confirm that the femme was barely holding on. "'Hide, we need that flare."

Light flooded the room. "I was working on it," the black mech said gruffly as he approached the females. Chromia's attention returned to the Head of Intel, and she gasped in horror.

The wounds were bad, to say the least. Vocal mechanisms were exposed and broken, with dried Energon coating the mutilated pieces and the edges of the wound, and one of her headlights had been shattered. Dents and other abrasions marred her entire body. There were marks on her wrists, probably from being chained. She had dislocated her left shoulder trying to free herself. An entire panel was gone on her side, and the exposed circuitry sparked and crackled uselessly, Energon crusting the edges of this wound as well, still oozing from it onto the floor. Chromia had slipped in vital fluid. And farther down, on the pelvic plating...

A Cybertronian generally had five panels of armor making up the pelvic region, two in front, two in back, and one more panel up front that concealed their interface mechanisms. Ironhide and Chromia glanced down in horror as they took in the fact that four of Ember's pelvic panels were intact, albiet severely dented. It was the absence of the fifth, and the carnage that had been wrought upon the sensitive components hidden beneath.

Delicate interface circuitry had been damaged severely, and the panel had actually been cracked right down the center. Exposed wiring sparked pathetically and fluids leaked around the ravaged parts.

"Oh, Primus, Ember..." Chromia touched her hand to the wounded femme's shoulder, hardly able to imagine the agony the Head of Intelligence was experiencing.

Ember's optics snapped online, and what had to be a scream, like music coming from a ruined speaker, issued from her destroyed vocal mechanisms. She writhed, trying to get away from Chromia's hand. More screaming, the scratching and static getting worse and worse with every sound. Energon leaked down her throat and chest plating from her exposed vocalizer.

"Shhh, it's alright, I'm not gonna hurt you..." Chromia's hand moved to the back of Ember's head. "'Hide and Ratchet are gonna get you outta here. You're gonna be okay, Emmi. It's over now... It's all over."

The Autobot troops and officers stood anxiously with the waiting Medical team. Hoist and First Aid watched the entrance intently, First Aid standing by in vehicle mode.

First to appear were Cliffjumper, Inferno, and Arcee, who were closely followed by Bluestreak, Prowl, and Smokescreen. Smokescreen was supporting his brother, with Bluestreak standing on the other side. The assembled Autobots cheered a little at the sight of their Second-In-Command.

Hoist rushed forward to help Prowl over to First Aid.

"What was the verdict?" the medic asked Smokescreen as the latter handed the tactician off to him.

"Head/neck trauma, we think," the Special Ops. agent said. "We haven't heard from Ironhide and the others.

"Make that just Ratchet, Ironhide and Chromia," Hound said. He, Mirage, and Warpath appeared from nowhere. "I haven't heard from them."

"You have now," Ironhide called gruffly as he emerged from the destroyed base. "Ratchet and Chromia are still down there with Ember. She's alive." The Weapons' Specialist looked at Hoist. "Ratchet said to get Prowl back to Iacon."

Hoist nodded, then helped Prowl clamber into First Aid's vehicle mode. He signalled First Aid to head off when Prowl was secured.

As First Aid disappeared, Ratchet appeared with an unconscious Ember secured in his arms. Chromia followed closely, looking as though she'd been up all night with a sparkling. The Autobot troops all breathed a sigh of relief when they realized that Ember was, in fact, alive.

"Hoist..." Ratchet started.

"No." Optimus came forward and took his niece from the medic. "Ratchet, transform."

The CMO did as ordered. Optimus gingerly set the Head of Intelligence inside the medic's vehicle mode. "Go. We'll catch up."

Ratchet headed off, then Optimus and the others transformed and followed suit.

__

'You think they'll be okay?'

Cosmos worried from his place in front of Air Raid, Blades, and Powerglide.__

'I hope so, Cosmos,'

Optimus lamented. 


	2. Intensive Care

"So, how are our victims doing?" Optimus asked as he entered the Medbay.

"Everyone? Or intensive care?" Ratchet inquired from beside Bumblebee, who'd received little more than a broken arm.

"... This lot first."

"There you go, 'Bee, now try not to move that arm, got it?" The medic turned to the Prime. "'Bee's arm'll be better by this evening, Red's vocal processors are out of commission for a solarcycle or two, Perceptor was in and out, just some minor scratches and dents, I'm still working on Magnus' shoulder, and Elita's wrist is gonna keep her outta work for a couple of solarcycles, but nothing too severe in here."

"That's good," Optimus nodded.

Ratchet lowered his voice as the mechs walked toward the door to the Intensive Care Unit of the Medbay. "As for these two... I can't let you talk to Ember, she's still too weak to do much of anything, but Prowl's allowed visitors. Blue and Smoky're in with him now."

"Right," the Autobot commander said as they entered the smaller room. Ember was asleep on a berth to their immediate left, and Optimus could only see the screens of several monitors glowing in the dim light.

Further up the row, Optimus spotted Bluestreak, sitting on an unoccupied berth and talking to the Autobot Second-In-Command, who was contributing minimally to the conversation. Smokescreen sat next to Bluestreak, chiming in every now and then.

"Bluestreak, have you been talking your brother's audios off?" Ratchet asked.

The mech jumped. "Gah! Ratchet, don't do that! I was just wrapping up here anyway; I've got some reports to finish." Bluestreak turned to his half-brother. "Hope you feel better, Prowl."

"Thank you, Bluestreak." The Second-In-Command gave a weak smile. His right optic was a dimmer gold than his left, but it was repaired, and seemed to be healing itself well.

The cadet grinned as he walked off.

Prowl shook his head, wincing. "I can't believe we're related."

"Neither can we. And I thought I told you not to do that, you'll agitate your injury." The medic came to a halt on the injured mech's left and crossed his arms. "Don't think I'll go easy on you because I'm a medic."

Smokescreen sensed the medic's frustration, and jumped up. "Uh, I gotta go too... 'bye, Prowl." He hurried off.

"Look, uh, I know this isn't the best time, but I need to ask you a few questions about your..." Ratchet struggled for the right word.

"I believe the word you want is 'incarceration'. And, it's no problem, I've got time to answer questions, since all my plans have been pushed back a bit," the tactician snarked.

"You're cracking jokes? Who are you and what have done with Prowl?" Optimus teased.

Prowl rolled his optics. "You're a riot, sir, forgive my forgetting to laugh. But, seriously, Ratchet, what do you want to know?"

The medic exhaled, picking up the medical chart from its place at the foot of Prowl's berth. He looked it over as he spoke. "Mostly what was done to you, what they wanted to know, things like that."

"Funnily enough, they didn't demand much information. Not from me, anyway. I got a lot of punching and kicking, a couple burns and they cut me a few times. I never saw what they did with Ember, but from the look I got as she was brought in, she had it worse than I did," Prowl explained. "They probably tortured her for information, rather than just straightforward torture for torture's sake."

A weak, raspy moan sounded from down the row. Everyone looked toward the sound. Ratchet sighed. "I'll be right back."

The mechs nodded as the medic headed to the wounded femme. Prowl turned to Optimus and bit his lower lip component, as though he was deciding whether or not to say something.

Optimus cocked an optic ridge. "What is it, Prowl?"

Prowl sighed before continuing. "I never did _see_ what happened to Ember, but the cells down there were far from soundproof. I... heard... things. There was a lot of screaming at first. And they always just laughed. After awhile, she just stopped fighting them. Then, the only noises I heard were the mechs. Listening to that, knowing I couldn't help... it was worse torture than anything they could have done to me physically, Optimus..." Prowl broke off, tears in his optics, and for the first time in awhile, Optimus could see just how young his Second-In-Command was.

The tactician wasn't nearly as old as he seemed. He was just surprisingly mature and supremely eloquent for a mech his age. Prowl was a million or so stellarcycles younger than Optimus, but by the way he acted, his mental capacity and his body language, someone not in the know would've sworn that the two of them had been in the same class at the Academy.

But now, as Optimus looked upon the mech's scarred face, he saw the true fear and pain in the other's optics. It reminded him that, though most times he didn't act it, Prowl was still so young, in so many ways. Strong as he was mentally, and as rigidly as he controlled his emotions, Prowl was truly terrified. For his closest friend, for himself, for everyone who was in danger of another attack.

Those optics revealed just what kind of hell the younger had been through. Optimus could almost see the numerous beatings that had occurred over the course of the tactician's decacycle-long incarceration.

The Autobot commander didn't stay for much longer after that, it was getting late, and Ratchet kicked him out when he decided that everyone needed to recharge.


	3. Prowl's Nightmare

Prowl twisted uneasily in recharge. Memories crashed through his processors, blooming into his subconscious and turning his dreams into horrible nightmares.

__

It was Megacycle Two of what was to be seven hundred and forty-four megacycles of pure torment. Shadows passed in front of his cell. He got to his feet and peered out the door. The guards were walking past him, laughing and elbowing each other. Prowl caught bits of what they were saying. He ducked back into a corner when they looked over at his cell.

"-real looker. I don't care if she's Megatron's daughter, I want some of that action!"

"Yeah, but what if the Boss finds out?"

"Pfft, who's gonna tell? I'm not, you're not."

A door slid open down the hall. Prowl heard the soft clangs of Ember jumping to her feet. "What do you think you are doing? Do you know who I am?" she demanded.

Laughter followed. "Come on, gorgeous, don't make us be rough on you."

"What are you-AH!" Another clang, louder, more aggressive. "Get away from me!"

More laughter. Several clashes and cracking sounds followed.

"No!" Ember screamed. Prowl jumped up again and ran to the door.

"What are you doing to her?" he bellowed. "Get away from her!"

The bulky mech outside of Ember's cell looked down the hall at the yelling mech. He clomped down and opened the cell door. "You wanna dance, pretty mech?"

"What're you-"

A massive fist connected with the side of Prowl's face. His world turned to static. When he came to, his right optic was offline, and Ember was still screaming.


	4. Checkup

Optimus got up late, and was hurrying to his office, almost positive that Prowl would've already dropped off several datapads...before he remembered that Prowl was still in the Medbay. He decided to drop in and check up on everyone.

After saying his hellos to the minor injuries, Optimus headed to the ICU. He glanced at his recharging Head of Intelligence, then continued back to his Second-In-Command, who was in the middle of having the back of his head checked by Ratchet. The medic was muttering aloud, mostly to himself.

"... can't believe they didn't keep you in mint condition so we'd try harder to find you..."

"Ratchet, I can hear you."

"Oh, I know you can."

"Well, it's annoying, can you quit it?"

"I'm done here anyway. Just don't be moving your head much, you'll break the solder keeping everything together."

Prowl rolled his optics at that. "Whatever."

"Don't you 'whatever' me, youngling. You cracked half your sensory processor."

"Just means that I don't feel any pain."

"Well, I caught you two in a good mood," Optimus chimed.

"Good morning, Optimus."

"Hey, Prime."

"Hello, both of you. So, what's the verdict?"

"On what? My head? I feel fine, but Ratchet disagrees," Prowl said, with a scornful glare at Ratchet. "So I'm probably stuck in here for awhile. Which doesn't mean I can't-"

"Nuh-uh. You're not fully healed, and if you try any of that 'I-need-to-finish-this-stack-of-reports-so-I'm-not-gonna-recharge-for-another-quartex', you'll overheat the solder, melt it, and that could fry your CPU. And that's just what's wrong with your head. Not that it was ever normal to begin with."

The tactician rolled his optics. "You're exaggerating."

"Not necessarily."

"I'm not going to fry my CPU."

"Just sayin' it could happen."

Optimus shook his head. He remembered now why Prowl and Ratchet stayed as far away from one another as possible.


	5. Em's Nightmare

Ember stirred, and Ratchet looked up from his report, then back down. She looked all right.

But the dreaming femme was far from peaceful.

__

The biggest one, a yellow mech whose name she didn't know, merely laughed as a smaller green one pried Ember's knees apart. She shrieked and tried to fight him, but the mech was stronger than she.

"No!" she yelled again. A vicious kick to one mech's face broke his neck, but earned Ember a knock to the side. She felt an armor panel crack.

The scene went dark as the memory changed.

She screamed as she had so many times before, but they only laughed. She felt servos ghosting over her interface panel and writhed to get away.

Clawed hands tore at the piece of plating that hid her interface components, and the mechs finally got so sick of her screaming that one of them, a blue one this time, slashed her across the throat.

White hot pain followed, all over her body, so much so that she actually overheated and went offline.

When she woke, she was alone, chained to the wall. She hurt positively **everywhere**. She saw Energon leaking from her wounded side, and didn't even want to look down, fearing what she would see...

Ember jolted awake, intakes cycling heavily. She looked around, taking her bearings.

She was lying on her back on a recharge berth, not on her face, chained to a wall, on the floor. The annoying _beep-beep_ of a spark monitor came from somewhere on the wall above her head, and several wires and fluid tubes were hooked into her arms, and the wire for the spark monitor was connected the side of her spark chamber. There wasn't nearly as much pain overwhelming her systems now...but there was still some. A throb in her shoulder and side. And a faint aching in her throat.

The room was much larger than her cell, and there were small lights along the walls. She saw Prowl's recharging form a few berths away, and the silhouette of Ratchet leaving his office. She sighed in relief. She knew where she was.

"Em? You okay?" Ratchet asked from beside her. How did a mech of his size move that fast?

The female jumped slightly in surprise, and gave a scratchy yelp of pain as her movement brushed her arm against the fresh solder on her side.

"Hey now, careful of that repair, okay?" the medic said softly. "What're you doing up?"

This was so unlike Ratchet "the Hatchet", so nicknamed for his usually-cranky mannerisms and nasty habit of wrench throwing. Ignoring this, Ember picked up the message board she was using to communicate and spelled out _Nightmare_.

Ratchet nodded. "All right. While I've got you... are you in any pain?"

Ember erased the statement about her dream and wrote _A little. My shoulder..._

"Do you think you need any painkillers to get back to sleep?"

__

It would be appreciated. Thank you.

The medic complied with a nod, injecting the medicine into one of the fluid lines hooked into her arm. Ember exhaled as she felt the solution starting to take effect. She picked up the stylus again. _Communicating will be so much easier when I have learned to sign._

"Yeah, good thing you were taking lessons on a whim. I don't know when I'll be able to have your vocalizer back to rights; it has to be completely rebuilt. I'll be totally removing it soon." Ratchet moved to the head of the berth and checked the femme's sparkrate and oil pressure. "Okay, vitals look good, your temp's a little low, but that's normal for you. I can take you off of this..."

The rest of what he said faded out as Ember drifted back into recharge.


	6. Ironhide and Chromia

"Ember? Are you online?"

The female looked to her left to see Prowl peering at her. She picked up the message board and wrote _Yes, I am._

"Well, I see that now. Uh... Ratchet told me I should take a walk so my motor servos wouldn't forget how to work while I'm out of work, I'm pretty sure he just wants me out of his Medbay for awhile, and I wanted to pop in on you."

__

Thank you.

"No problem. I see that Ratchet took you off the monitors and the oil line. That's good." Prowl's mouth twisted to the side. "I'm going down the Rec. Room to grab some Energon and let everyone know that I'm still online. Want me to bring you back anything?"

Ember's mouth opened slightly in a silent laugh. _No, thank you. This thing takes care of the Energon._ She drew an arrow pointing to the Energon line in her arm, then continued writing._ Will you let Chromia and Ironhide know that I am all right?_

"Will do."

"You've got to be quiet. I don't know if she's online or off," Prowl said as he led Chromia and Ironhide back to the ICU.

Chromia poked her head into the doors. "She's recharging."

The weapons specialist, his femme, and the tactician slipped over to the recharging intelligence officer. "All right, but mark me: If you upset her in any way, Ratchet might 'accidentally' short-circuit my CPU the next time he runs an evaluation on my head," Prowl warned.

"We won't wake her," Ironhide growled softly.

"Regardless..."

"She spends most of her time in recharge, doesn't she?" Chromia asked, keeping her voice down.

"She needs rest," the Second-In-Command murmured, regarding the recharging femme. He caressed her cheek with his thumb in a comforting gesture. "Constant recharge is the only way for her systems to recover."

"... What did they do to her?"

"I'm not at liberty to discuss that. All I can say is that she had it worse than I did."

"Fair enough. I've got patrol in ten kliks, so I've gotta jet. Can you give her this for me? It's a novel she wanted to borrow..." Chromia handed the datapad to Prowl and left quietly.

"I better get goin' too," Ironhide said, getting up and following Chromia.

"Okay. I'll let her know you stopped by."

Prowl remained at the female's side for awhile longer, just watching her recharge, then got up to get back to his own berth. He placed the datapad on her berthside table, picked up her message board, and wrote _Here's the novel Chromia said she'd lend you. I didn't want to wake you, so I've left it here._

He placed the board on top of the datapad and slipped away silently.


	7. Interview

Optimus and Elita ventured to the Medbay. Everyone had been let out except Prowl and Ember, and the commander had wanted to drop in and check up on them since he was off duty.

Ratchet met them at the door. "Ember wants to talk to you, Optimus. Wants to tell you what happened."

"I thought she couldn't speak?"

"She can't, she's using a message board. She might never speak again, so don't say anything about it. And don't try to get everything, this is hard enough for her. I swear, if she gets upset, I'll throw you out."

"Understood."

"Shall I come?" Elita inquired.

"Uh, she wanted to speak with Optimus alone. You can hang back by Prowl, but I doubt he'll be much company, he's probably in recharge by now."

"All right." The orange femme slipped back into the ICU, passing by Ember with a smile and a wave.

Optimus followed Ratchet back to the femme's berth. "Hello, Ember."

The female was sitting up against the headboard of the berth and the wall behind it. She appeared to be healed, but Optimus could tell that she was still very weak by how sluggish her movements were as she went to pick up her message board. She grabbed it, then set it in her lap. She shuttered her optics in a strange pattern of five. Then, she picked up her message board and started to write.

_The Decepticons..._

"Don't. I understand."

Ember sighed and erased the board to start over.

_Of course._

"So..." The Autobot commander shifted his weight from one foot to the other awkwardly, but it was Ember who continued.

__

How much did Prowl tell you?

Of course she would know he'd spoken to Prowl. Nevertheless, Optimus was taken off-guard by the question. Usually, his niece didn't speak about such matters as who was told what by whom, she just left things as they were so to better accept and deal with them. Plus, on the battlefield, it was easier to say that you simply "overheard" information.

"... Enough. He merely told me what he'd heard from his location, and the inference he made about what had happened."

Ember's optics dimmed as she looked away from her superior.

The red and blue mech moved closer to the female, and made a move as though to embrace her, but she pulled away.

Optimus moved away with his hands up as though surrendering. "I'm sorry."

__

Do not be. It is not your fault, there is nothing you could have done. Ember's entire frame shuddered with humiliation. Optimus noticed the datapad on her berthside table, and crossed his arms before speaking.

"I'll... let you get back to your reading."

Ember sighed and she slumped back against the wall. _Thank you, sir._

Optimus left the Intelligence officer to her novel, heading back out to the main ICU.

"Did she tell you?" Prowl's voice called from a few rows over.

Optimus turned around. "Oh, Prowl, I didn't know you were still awake."

"I wasn't, but you know what a light sleeper I am."

Elita nodded. "He's right. We both heard you talking to Ember..."

"But neither of us have good enough hearing to know what you said, I assure you."

"Never mind. It was nothing."

Prowl and Elita each cocked an optic ridge. "All right then."

"'Kay, whatever."


	8. Wouldn't Want You To Worry

A certain silver mech made his way back to his quarters after a double patrol shift. It was late, he was tired, and his bonded was waiting for him.

He keyed in the door code and headed inside. It was dark, and he couldn't see anything.

"Hey Jazz, you're back late."

The special ops. agent turned around to see his mate leaning against the wall. "Yeah, a few of us've had ta work double shifts 'cause Prowl and Ember are outta commission, and we don' know when they'll be back."

Blaster nodded. "Yeah, I dropped by before. Ember was asleep, and Prowl was readin'. He told me he was just there until his head healed up. Ratch' says Em _can_ walk, but 's not a good idea for her ta get too overworked. 'S an improvement, at least."

"I dunno who I feel worse for; Em or Prowl." Jazz sighed, dropping down on the couch.

The communications officer sat beside his bonded and placed a hand on his shoulder. "Well, fer one thing, Prowl wouldn' wancha feelin' bad for either of 'em... and fer another thing... well, neither would Em."

"I know, but y'know how I worry about 'bots." Jazz gazed into his mate's optics, thinking.

What if it had been Blaster, not Ember or Prowl? If it was his _bonded_ in the ICU of the Medbay, not one of his best friends? It could just as easily have been, anyone was a target. Elita One, the _commander's_ mate, had been taken. She was one of the lucky ones. So were Perceptor, Bumblebee, Red Alert and Ultra Magnus. They'd all gotten away.

"Jazz, I know what yer thinkin', and y'know Prowl and Em'd feel the same way if it was me or you," Blaster said.


	9. Emergency

The room was dead silent. The couple on the berth could almost hear each other's inner systems working in the quiet. Moments like these were not uncommon, but it was what broke the ringing silence that was new.

"Optimus?"

This question had been weighing on her mind for a while, and she felt it would drive her crazy if she didn't ask it.

She sounded worried. The mech turned over. "Yes, Elita?"

"I was just thinking... Prowl said that Ratchet didn't know how long they were going to be in the Medbay. What will you do if Prowl or Ember goes offline?"

"Well, love, right now, I'm hoping I don't have to make plans for that."

Elita sighed. "I know, but I can't help but worry, you know?"

"I know, dear. But, according to Ratchet, they'll be let out soon, albeit restricted to light duty and desk work for quite a while. Which won't bother Prowl one bit, I suppose-"

__

'Optimus! We have an emergency in the Medbay!'

Wheeljack's frantic voice came over the comlinks.__

'What? Have you alerted Ratchet?'

__

'Of course, he's dealing with it. But he told me to call you.'

__

'Who is it?'

A pause. _'... Prowl.'_

Optimus and Elita exchanged a worried look before both leapt up and sprinted to the Medbay.


	10. Chaos

The commander and his mate entered the Medbay to a scene of utter chaos. Concerned officers and cadets, including Bluestreak, were being kept at bay by an equally-worried Ironhide and Chromia. Smaller mini-bots were being pushed up against the walls as groups tried to maneuver their way around the weapons specialist and the blue femme.

"Let us through!" Optimus yelled over the fray, and cadet and officer alike scattered as he and Elita made their way toward the back of the Medbay. "Ironhide, what's the story?"

"Dunno, we were talking to Prowl, and all of a sudden he just went rigid."

"We tried everything to get a response, but... nothing..." Chromia said quietly.

There was a tap on Optimus' shoulder. He turned around to see Ember standing there, leaning on the wall. She held her message board up so Optimus could read it.

__

I saw the whole exchange. His head injury was more severe than previously thought. I do not know what happened to trigger a relapse, but something sure as the Pit did.

"Yeah, Emmi was the one who sounded the alarm," Chromia mused, using Ember's younglinghood nickname as she had been doing since the rescue mission.

"Could it have been his stress level?" Elita asked.

__

That is what I think.

Optimus clicked his glossa against his front dental plates. "Are you sure?"

__

Almost positive.

Perceptor stuck his head out of the doors. "Prime? Can you come in here? Bring Em and Elita with you."

Optimus exchanged a worried glance with Ironhide and Chromia before leading the named femmes back into the other room.

The main recovery bay might have been chaotic, but the ICU made it look like the monitor room on a slow day. Medical staff was rushing back and forth from the supply shelves to the OR in the back of the room, and in and out of the OR itself. Ratchet was nowhere to be seen, but Wheeljack was waiting for them. "Prime-"

"Ironhide, Ember, and Chromia already told us what happened," Optimus interrupted. "What's Prowl's status?"

"Right now? Not so great. We don't know what the Pit happened, and Perceptor's not picking up any cracks in the solder," Wheeljack lamented. "We don't know of any pre-existing medical conditions this would have affected. Is Prowl epileptic or-?"

Ember scribbled furiously on her board. _No, he is not. That is me._

"Regardless, something happened. Possibly an old injury that was never reported acted up with the new agitation, coupled with the stress level, but we can't say for certain."

The officers all looked at each other. The orange femme's expression, Optimus observed, had worry written all over it. Ember noted the helpless, panicked look in her commanding officer's optics, and Elita was shocked at the sight of the Intelligence officer's face. It was as though Ember was channeling their worries alongside her own.

"Wheeljack! Sir, you're required in the back," a junior medic panted as he skidded to a stop beside the assembled four. "ASAP."

"All right, I'm coming. Stay here with these three."

"Yes, sir." The khaki-colored mech looked over at the officers. "Oh! I didn't realize it was you, Optimus Prime, sir." He saluted the commander.

"At ease, uh..."

"Carbon, sir."

"Thank you. At ease, Carbon. How's it going in there?"

Carbon bit his lower lip component. "Uh, I don't really know. I just hand off tools and pass along messages, sir. I'm still training with Ratchet."

"Oh, I see," Optimus nodded.

Ember tapped Optimus on the shoulder with her writing stylus and pointed to her board. _If I could get to the OR doors, I might be able to scan Prowl and find out what is going on..._

"How would that help?" Elita asked. "If Perceptor's not picking up anything..."

"Ember's scans are much more sensitive. She scans finer workings first, rather zeroing in on general areas. She could focus on a crack in a molecule at a glance," Optimus explained.

The Intelligence officer turned her face away modestly.

"Carbon, is there any way Ember could get close enough to the doors to run a scan?" the commander asked. The pleading look in his optics, coupled with the hurt and worry in Ember's, seemed to be enough to convince the young mech.

"Of course, follow me, Ma'am." Carbon gestured for Ember to follow. The femme handed her message board to her uncle and, with Ember taking slow steps with barely noticeable difficulty, the pair of them soon vanished among medial personnel hurrying about.

"I hope this works," Elita sighed.

"As do I, dear," Optimus agreed. "As do I."

Ember and Carbon returned shortly, the former reaching frantically for her message board. Optimus handed it to her and she scrawled her message quickly.

__

It is just as I feared. A younglinghood injury that he never had looked at did not heal properly. The injury is a crack in the emotional processing center of the CPU. A close look could not miss it, the cracked halves of the component set improperly, leaving the surface uneven. The damage explains so much about Prowl's personality, actually. There is no logical way Perceptor could have known to scan for it, I know for a fact that he only scanned where Ratchet told him to.

"Okay, but how would his current injury have affected that? Better question, where is that component, exactly?" Elita asked.

The Intelligence officer rolled her optics, then gestured for Optimus to turn around. The mech complied, and Ember traced a circle on the lower left half of the back of his head with her fourth and fifth fingers. Then, she tapped her second and third fingers on a spot in the upper right half of the imaginary circle.

"What the... where'd Prowl get hurt this last time?" Optimus didn't turn around, but he'd felt where Ember had indicated.

Ember pressed the heel of her hand right into the part of her uncle's head just above where his head met his neck. Then, she ran her thumb up to the center of the back of his head, and drew a circle there with it. She withdrew her hand and wrote again on her message board.

__

The trauma has rebroken the crack. It was leaking fluid slowly, and activity has simply agitated the wound further, and anything he did during his conversation with Ironhide and Chromia was the last dowel, and now if nothing is done, the vital fluid will flood the processors and could eventually short-circuit the CPU. I watched Ratchet, he is working entirely on the wrong spot.

"And he won't listen to me, I'm just a trainee," Carbon lamented. "I can't think of a way to convince Ratchet without letting him know I had Non-Medical Personnel near the OR without authorization while he was working on a patient. That could seriously damage my chances of finishing training."

"Well, we can't have that, can we?" Elita said sympathetically.

Optimus shook his head. "No we can't. But how-"

"Allow me," Perceptor's voice cut in. Everyone turned around in surprise. "Ember's right, I would never have known to scan that area. I'll re-scan, show Ratchet my findings, and it will be dealt with."

Ember's already-bewildered-looking optics widened. With a surprising burst of strength, she flung her arms around Perceptor's neck, mouthing "Thank you!" the whole time.

The scientist smiled as the female let go of him. "No problem. I've got to get back in there." With that, he hurried off.


	11. Never the Same

"I have those reports, sir," Cosmos said, dropping the datapads on his superior's desk. It had been two weeks since Prowl's relapse, and one since he'd gotten out of the Medbay. Em had been released that morning, but had reported to Optimus so they could decide what to do with her. After that as settled, Cosmos would be relieved of Clerk duty.

Prowl nodded and waved him off, looking over the datapads to see what they were, talking to himself in his head. _Let me see... Patrol write-ups... Jazz, Hound, and Blaster... Blaster needs to work on his handwriting... Monitor reports... Why I bother checking the names when I know it is all Red Alert is beyond me... Wheeljack and Perceptor's quarterly supply lists... and Ratchet's..._

He read, signed, and then sent them off to their next location to be properly filed, separately sending the supply lists to Optimus' office.

Whirring servos indicated Ember's presence. Prowl looked up. "Yes, Ember?"

He then noticed that she had Optimus with her. The Second-In-Command jolted to his feet. "Optimus, sir."

"Hello, Prowl. May we come in?"

Prowl nodded, gesturing to the empty chairs in front of his desk. "What do you need?"

Optimus' mouthplates drew together in a pensive expression. "Prowl, do you recall that you are the only Autobot qualified to serve as a translator for Ember?"

"Yes?"

"Well, we'll need you to do so now, because of the circumstances."

Prowl looked at Ember, who was playing with her hands in her lap, not looking up. "Of course. Do I have to follow her around, or...?"

"No. It'd be sufficient to keep a video stream open between your offices. We'd still need you to accompany her to meetings and the like... is that all right?"

"It's no trouble at all. Really."

Ember looked up at Prowl. She signed "thank you", and Prowl smiled.

Optimus nodded his head. "Thank you, Prowl. Come along, Ember."

The Head of Intelligence followed her uncle out into the hall. Prowl watched them go and sighed. Life would never be the same.


End file.
